


the worst is yet to come

by adaptation



Series: The Undone and the Divine [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, M/M, there's a TGI Friday's in Waterdeep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 06:37:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18338168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adaptation/pseuds/adaptation
Summary: This is how Will winds up married.





	the worst is yet to come

The others don’t quite grasp the fact of mortality. Will sees this every time they gear up for a big battle. While he’s sitting quietly, distracting himself with a card game he’s only half paying attention to, they seem to psych themselves up. When Will has to calm his nerves, Luna, Mialee, and Ashton can barely contain their excitement. They live for the fight.

 

  
Will probably isn’t cut out for this. Not the way they are, the way Michael is. Yes, he’s learned to wield his powers to his own advantage, and can hold his own when they’re attacked, but in hand-to-hand combat, any of them could best him with ease. Take away his magic and what does he have? A scimitar he barely knows how to use. Decent aim when throwing pebbles.

 

Sometimes he’s sure they forget how human he is. He’s only a quarter Elven. Mialee and Luna, if they don’t fall in battle, will live to surpass 500. Ashton’s half human, but he’s still looking at close to 200 years if he keeps his wits about him. He doesn’t know the estimates for his own lifespan—there’s not much research on that—but he can’t imagine he’ll get much older than 125 before his life reaches its natural end. But he’s softer and squishier, and easier to kill, and, staring down the battle with Iymrith, 125 seems really improbable.

 

  
Call him pessimistic, but in the days leading up to their departure every interaction he has feels like a goodbye. And this thing with Michael… it seems like it’s gotten more complicated, not less as Will had hoped. He went adventuring to find a sense of self, so he wouldn’t be the hopeless, lovesick fiancé waiting for his beau to return. He was supposed to fall out of love with Michael.

 

  
And he did. He realizes it when he proposes.

 

  
He’s sitting in a dingy corporate-run bar next to his best friend in the whole world, and he says, “We should get married,” and he suddenly feels nauseous and a little light-headed, and it’s not from the booze.

 

  
It’s a full-body thing, the realization of how much he just doesn’t want this. But he made a commitment to keep Michael and his family from ruin. The betrothal offered political security, but if he dies before the actual marriage, that evaporates. Halifax could offer them some money, and some stability with his sway as The Chosen of Lathender, but nowhere near what they’d receive from a solidified legal connection to the Thanns. Hali could buy them time, but not much more than that, and the Talmosts didn’t take charity.

 

  
Will goes to bed that night in his childhood bedroom. It’s the same as it was when he left home all those months ago. The air inside is thick with old promises and older feelings, and it’s suffocating. When he finally sleeps, it’s in fitful dozes, plagued by images of blood, pain, and a great blue dragon.

 

  
He rises when he can make a clean getaway, and heads into town. The alcohol has warn off enough that the nerves have set in. Michael looks like he always does, bright and vibrant with energy. Will shoves his shaking fingers into his pockets, trying to sound sure of himself when he meets Michael’s eyes, then Hali’s, and says, “Let’s do this.”

 

  
It’s over almost before he can process it, faster than a life-changing moment should be. It makes his head spin a little. Part of him had been expecting someone to stop him. In retrospect, it’s a stupid thought. Hali wouldn’t have done it. Even if Michael wanted to, he had a family to consider. Who else was there?

 

  
Ashton, maybe. But Will shakes that thought out of his head almost as soon as it forms. Who’s he kidding? Ashton wouldn’t have stopped him.

 

  
He and Michael are probably supposed to kiss, but they don’t. Will covers his awkward relief by hugging him tightly around the shoulders. Michael gives him a bro-thump on the back with the side of his fist, exactly like he used to whenever they successfully hustled a couple of sailors out of a few gold during a game of Dragon Egg.

 

  
Will sticks around as long as he can stand, which is definitely not long enough for post-wedding lunch at TGI Friday’s, and then begs off, citing his need to prepare for his next departure.

 

  
As he walks back to the manor, kicking stray pebbles with the dusty tips of his shoes, he thinks he’s supposed to feel better. He’s done something good. Michael’s family is safe now, in the clear, even if he doesn’t make it through the next battle. And while he’s glad for that, happy in the knowledge that Mrs Talmost isn’t going to land in debtor’s prison, he feels like he’s swallowed a rock that stuck in his throat. He should have had a drink with lunch.

 

  
He doesn’t even have time to process before the gang starts trickling in. He tries to look normal, unbothered. He’s not sure if he manages it. He doubts it even more when Ashton strides in and Will’s mouth goes dry, his eyes blow wide, and he jerks his gaze to a fingerprint smudge on the glistening cherry wood coffee table.

 

  
As he’s so good at doing, Danilo interjects himself almost immediately, and Will can feel the buzz of I know a secret emanating from his father like a cologne. If it’s possible for Will to feel more dread than he already did, he’s full up on it now.  
Danilo Thann’s eyes narrow on him almost immediately. “What did you get up to last night?” At that moment, Will wholeheartedly hates his dad.

 

  
“Oh, you know,” he says. His shrug is too casual. “Just drinks with the boys.”

 

  
His companions are smiling blandly, satisfied with his answer and none the wiser. Danilo knows. Danilo always knows.

 

 

“Really? You didn’t get up to anything interesting? Nothing to share?”

 

  
_I know you got married, you little shit,_ he hears in his head.

 

  
Will smiles tightly. “Nope.” _Mind your own business, Dad._ His internal voice is petulant and whiny, like a teenager.

 

  
To his sincere amazement, Danilo backs off. When he thinks about it, Will comes to the conclusion that this is because his father wants to see what kind of shitstorm kicks up when his friends find out. Danilo’s always loved drama. He thrives on it.  
But that’s a problem for another day, one after the battle. Assuming he lives through it.


End file.
